


I Am Wasting Away Without You

by GhostofEden



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angsty Crowley (Good Omens), Demon Aziraphale (Good Omens), Depression, Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fallen Angel Aziraphale (Good Omens), Hurt Aziraphale (Good Omens), Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Making Up, Misunderstandings, Naughty language, Not Beta Read, Oblivious Aziraphale (Good Omens), Short Story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-28
Updated: 2019-08-28
Packaged: 2020-09-28 07:40:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20422337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostofEden/pseuds/GhostofEden
Summary: In which Crowley leaves and Aziraphale eventually Falls.





	I Am Wasting Away Without You

**Author's Note:**

> THIS IS NOT BETA READ, ANY MISTAKES ARE MINE AND WILL BE FIXED EVENTUALLY. PLEASE ENJOY.
> 
> P.S- This is my first time writing. I hope its okay :)

It should be noted that Aziraphale, Angel, Principality, Guardian of the Eastern Gate and wielder of a sword of hellfire didn't fall, not quickly. He didn't saunter vaguely downwards or take a nice stroll down a very steep hill. It was more like he tripped. Yes, he tripped and he fell hard and was left with nothing....

But let us go back to the start of his fall. Right before his life was turned upside down.When Aziraphale, still an angel, had the demon Crowley by his side.

* * *

**[1 Year after the Armageddon that never was]**

It all started over dinner at The Ritz, as always. The two friends were sharing some white wine. Clinking together their glasses, they shared a look with one another. The same look that they've been giving each other for years now. While is was hard to tell the demon's emotions while he wore his shades, anyone, even a human, could practically see the happiness that radiated off his body. The angel was much the same, however, he cracked an endearing smile towards the other.

Anyone could see that they were in love, except for them. ( Well, maybe one of them, Crowley was sure he had something for the other... )

Which was why Crowley put his glass down with a silent clink. His shades slid down his nose a bit as he anxiously rolled his shoulder blades to ease his tension. He looked over to his angel, "Angel, have you ever thought of moving out of...." he gestured wildly with his right hand, "-this place? Quite boring, don't y'think?"

The angel in question squinted curiously at the other man. He raised a perfectly curved eyebrow, "Whatever do you mean? I wouldn't trade this for the world." And he meant it, he really did. Fortunately the demon understood and shook his head, "Oh, angel-" the word was said so softly, "No. With me? You and me, somewhere out there in the world. Alpha Centari, Japan, Moscow, America. You name it and we can go. Live our lives?" He said this awkwardly, what he was really trying to say was 'Stay with me. Stay with me forever and I'll love you so much-"

The angel looked down upon the smooth white table cloth. His two pale hands coming together under the tablecloth to pick and pull at his fingers nervously. He looked into those yellow, serpentine eyes.

"My dear, what about Down There? Or Upstairs? Truly you can't believe that they would leave us alone?"

That's a low blow, but Crowley is stubborn, so he continues to pick at the angel. He lowered his voice to a harsh whisper, "Oh for Sombody's sake! We stopped the end of the world together! We survived our executions! They are afraid of us, angel-" he leaned back, frustrated in his chair, "-We can live our lives now! You and me....there's this cottage I've been looking at down by-"

"Crowley." and that one word stopped the demon in his tracks. His corporation's heart was beating frantically as he looked over at the angel. _Please say yes pleasesayyespleasesayyesplease. Please!_

The angel frowned, shattering the demon's heart once more. "We _can't_, Crowley."

The demon glared at his counterpart, rage filling his eyes, hatred in his gut. If he really wanted to he could be spitting hellfire by now. He felt the rug being pulled out from underneath his feet as he made his decision.

_He was done with waiting._

_He loved the angel for thousands of years._

_He waited for the moment that they could live in happiness together._

_He wanted a life with Aziraphale._

_He was done with waiting for it_.

"_Aziraphale_-" the angel's full name felt foreign on his tongue, "-you don't really mean that, _do you_?"

_Now, take into consideration that Aziraphale really wants to say: "No, dear. I wish to spend the rest of eternity with no one but you. Let's get married. Let's move. Let's travel with each other until there is nothing left in this galaxy and then some to see."_

But what Aziraphale really says is: "With all my heart." As his own heart shattered into a million pieces.

_I can't risk you getting hurt my dear, please understand_. His eyes said, but the demon was having nothing of it.

"I _see..._" Crowley hissed angrily. He clutched his hands so tightly that his knuckles cracked.

_"I'm going to fast for you."_ He mocked, "I see how it is, once an angel, always an angel." He took the last few sips of his wine. Aziraphale glared at him angrily, "What-Wait! What's that supposed to mean?"

"I'm done with waiting for you angel! Ssssssix thousand yearssss and thissss is what I get!" He growled out, thankfully no one noticed the black scales creeping up his neck. He pulled his car keys out of his pocket, ready to leave before he does something he regrets in front of all these humans. Aziraphale glares at him as he stands,

"Wait! Where are you going?" and the sadness that filled those icy blue irises almost made him sit back down but he ignored it.

"Away-" he pushed his shades higher up on his nose, "-_far_ away. From _you_ and this _damned_ place. Have a nice life, _angel_!" He spat. Walking out the restaurant with an air of coolness. Sauntering out the door like the snake he was.

Leaving the angel all alone.

\-----------------------

After that, it seemed like Crowley fell of the face of the earth.

The first day after their fight, Aziraphale tried to call, several times ( <strike>48 times to be exact</strike> ) and gave up when he kept getting put to voice mail. He figured that the demon would eventually get over it and call him back but alas....

_He never did._

A week passed, then another, and another until it was exactly 2 years after they ruined Armageddon. Aziraphale was still alone in his bookshop, getting more and more worried by the day.

It was exactly 2:15 Pm on a lovely Saturday afternoon when his calls didn't go through at all. In fact, it was like Crowley's number never existed. Then, on that Sunday he tried to visit Crowley's flat to see what exactly was going on....

It was vacant. _Empty._ Not a plant nor a throne or a demon. Nothing. Gone.

It was then that Aziraphale realized....he was really _alone._  
\-----------------------

Angels are beings of love.They are made by it. Taught by it. They swear by it. Love truly is in their souls.

So, Aziraphale noticed when he started to lose his love. Slowly but surely, he was turning _grey._

His hair turned a darker shade of gray instead of the clean, pristine white. His eyes dulled a shade and all in all, he felt like shit.

So when Crowley was gone for 10 years, leaving no call or note or anything. Everything started to go downhill.

It started with food. Something that used to bring him joy now brought him sadness. The angel remembered all the times he shared food with Crowley. Smiling at one another and sharing a bottle of wine. Every bite of food now tasted bitter to him. Every swig he took from his bottle of wine never helped. He never forgot. He always _remembered_. So, he stopped eating and drinking all together. His corporation became skinny and gaunt. His skin was as pale as a sheet and his eyes now held dark circles underneath them.

No matter how many times he told himself to pull together, he kept seeing things that reminded him of Crowley.

He saw Crowley in shop windows' were black leather clothing was put of display.

He saw Crowley in the yellow of the flowers at the park. His eyes were the same shade.

He saw Crowley in those old vintage cars that sometimes pass the the shop, passing by slowly. It reminded him of how he secretly enjoyed the rush of going over the speed limit.

He even saw him in his bookshop when he set down on his couch. Remembering how Crowley stretched out and relaxed on it all those years ago.

The next thing to go was his books. No matter how hard he tried, how could no longer lose himself in the stories. Everytime he turned a page he forgot what was on the last. He would become frustrated with himself to the point of tears, and he didn't know he was crying until he stained the old pages his his salty tears.

So, he didn't realize when he started selling his books. At first he sold his more common copies. Then he sold the uncommon ones to collectors. The rare and first edition went to the historians and donated to museums. He missed his books dearly, but he missed his demon more.

* * *

30 years come and go without a sign, and while sitting against his empty bookshelves, he finally decides to close up shop.

He sells his bookshelves first, then whatever books managed to stay he gave away. He took off the letters above his door. A.Z Fell and Co. was no more. It was gone.

He then sold whatever knick knacks he hoarded over the years, from music records to a tiny hanging plant he knows got here because of Crowley years ago.

The final, and possibly most shocking change, was his clothing. He traded his signature suit for a soft, navy flannal. His once stiff pants now dark blue jeans that hugged his now thin frame just right. All his beloved clothing that he once cared for were thrown out or donated. He didn't need them anymore. He needed Crowley.

* * *

Don't get Aziraphale wrong, he did look for his demon. For years, in fact, but he looked in the wrong place.

That night Crowley asked Aziraphale to move with him, he already bought the small cottage in South Downs. He had a whole back room cleared just for his angel's books. He also had a small garden for himself and made a nice kitchen for them to cook food together and eat together while loving each other. Being with one another.

So, the same night he was rejected, Crowley left his home and angel behind to pursue a quiet life in _<strike>their</strike>_ his cottage.

He didn't sell the flat until 8 years later.

20 years in and he probably drank himself drunk every night.

20 turned into 30 and Crowley was finally. Finally moving on. He saw now that the angel never came looking for him. Never called or wrote or anything. So in short, Crowley was furious.He hated the angel for making him feel this way.They say demons play and trick and break but in reality. The angel did that to him.So, he was happy here, by himself in South Downs. He had his car and he was never told off for going too fast. He had a kitchen to himself to eat all he wants. He has a space on the couch to stretch his long, lanky legs out. He was alone.

And that was _fine_.

Until, one morning at nine fifteen, after exactly 32 and a half years of silence, Crowley heard a knock on his door.

___________________

Aziraphale was walking alone, something he became accustomed to, as of late. He watched as humans passed him by in a blur. Stuffing his pale, shaky hands in his pockets he walked along the path. The park was still as beautiful as ever and yet, he couldn't bring himself to even look at the ducks.

But their bench....

The lone angel crouched behind a nearby bush.

Those figures...

His heart turned cold.  
_________________

"The angelzzzz have been looking for you and your....plaything, traitor."

Ah. Beelzebub. It was them that came by his door at ass o'clock in the morning for a "lovely chat". This was anything but lovely.

"Wow, that's unfortunate. Haven't seen him in years." He paused, looking around to park silently. Beelzebub buzzed lowly, their eyes following the serpents own,

"Hell fearzzz you, Crowley. But, heaven despisezzz you." They said, left arm coming up to look at their broken watch. Crowley looked over, "Why are you even telling me this?"

Beelzebub shook their head, flies whizzing around before settling down once more in their hair. "Hell doezn't hate you, Crowley. But Heaven is coming after your boyfriend. I'm warning you."

And just like that, they up and left the demon on the bench with his thoughts. The serpent pushed his shades up higher, "Really now, not like he wouldn't go back with those assholes Up There." He spat out to himself. He settled back down, surveying the park once more. He spotted one lone, hunched over figure walking quickly across the street leading away from the park. Though he didn't recognize their back, he shook his head to himself.

A pity, really....

* * *

The next 5 years are hell for Aziraphale.

The same day he saw his demon with Beelzebub he threw himself into a fit of rage. He trashed his room, broke his bathroom mirror and completely trashed his bare kitchen.

He could have given Wrath a run for their money.

After that, he tried pushing Crowley out of his head. Obviously he was in some sort of agreement with hell and is probably plotting against him at this very moment. He is a demon after all, and demons betray those around them all the time.

A small part of him denied that Crowley to ever be that way. Like a fool, he thought to himself, he believed it.

____________________

While cleaning the glass off his bathroom floor, Aziraphale was shaken to his core when his whole body finally felt hot. He collapsed against the glass, pale forearms getting sliced by the shards as he clutched his chest, right where his heart, his soul, was to be. He cried out as a blinding white light assaulted his vision and his whole body felt weightless for a fraction of a second. He opened his dulled eyes to be met with darkness.

**Do you know why you are here?** a booming yet soft voice asked. Aziraphale did the best he could to shake his head. The voice chimed once more,

**You are going to fall. My angel. I'm sorry.**

It occured to Aziraphale that this voice was god. God herself has speaking to him. Soothing him.

These were his final moments in her grace. Before he would fall into that pool of boiling sulfur....

He wanted to ask why.

**. . .**

**You belong there. Her voice said. You don't belong with the angels anymore.**

He felt a tear stream down his face.

Time is up, my child. She soothed. I will always be watching over you.

And he fell.

**. . .**  
  


* * *

One could compare a falling angel to a shooting star. Since that is what Aziraphale looked like on his perilous journey to hell.

A human girl looked out on her window and made a wish for happiness. Little did she know that her star was once an angel. Whose wings were burning and tearing at the seams. His tears turned to blood as is burned through his skin. It felt like he was covered in lava.

His fingernails turned black and sharp as he clawed at his chest frantically. He twisted and turned in the air. His wings cracked and dislocated. They were almost torn from his back when he tried to grab them in an attempt to rip them out himself.

_The pain...the **pain**._

He screamed until blood came up from his throat and he couldn't anymore. He screamed for help. For god, for mercy, anyone.

** _He screamed for Crowley._ **

But Aziraphale never made it to Hell. In fact, they were unaware of the falling angel and turned a blind eye.

_(Well, he was the first to fall ever since The War....)_

Instead, he hit the cold, hard ground of his book shop. The hole in the cieling made from his body blinked away in a miracle by God. As if she was saying: "Oh, sorry you just broke all your bones, let me fix your ceiling for you." And left it at that.

Stopped on his back. Limbs broken and unmovable. Breaths coming out in short, curdled gasps. Blood pouring down his chin and cheeks. Wings black and charred.

He looked up to the ceiling. Body only filling with hatred, not love. No more love.

** _"Fuck you."_ **

He fell into a deep slumber.

_______________________

He slept in pain for three years. Waking up exactly 37 years after Crowley walked out of his life.

But he wouldn't know Crowley anymore. He remembered someone with dark red hair and yellow eyes. His best friend. However, he couldn't remember the man's name. The one that plagued his nightmares and has in his thought 24/7. He knew this man was important, he just didn't know why.

He also forgot about himself. He knew he was once an angel, but he could never remember his own name. He couldn't remember what he used to look like either so he came to love his new look.

He had pale white hair with grey eyes. However, he did have a light blue coloring around his pupils, which were surprisingly which were slited, like a snakes or a cats eyes.

He also had small ram horns growing out the side of his head. They were a bit on the small side but they grew a bit every week and he was proud of them.

All in all. The nameless demon was doing fine. He had no worries. Nothing to cry or fret over. He felt calm.

If only he could get thet man out of his head.....  
___________________

The nameless demon came to love food. ( again...but he couldn't remember his angel days )

He didn't like eating, though. Rather chose to get sick and get rid of whatever was in his corporation in favor of watching the humans enjoy food.

So, he opened shop once more, but instead of old dusty books, he old rare imports from around the world. He dubbed the shop Small Rarities and it specialized in some homemade candies he decided to make one morning that actually tested really, really good. The people loved them.

Except for those who got served a bad, burnt batch, those were the people he hated.

So, Small Rarities became a lovely shop in which people from all over came to enjoy. Unless you were an asshole, there was a burnt batch always waiting for you.

But otherwise, his loyal customers loved his imported goods, and his sweet homemade candies. But there was one thing that simply piqued their curiosities. The man had no name.

Yes, he had weird eyes, but most assumed they were contacts. He also had horns, but most saw this as a head accessory to seem funny to the local children. He wore all black, and in cooler climates he wore a vintage black trenchcoat. To anyone else he would be offputting, or even scary to a smaller child. But in reality he was a very kind young man.

Some called him _Sir_. Kids called him _Moon_ or _Whitey_ because of his hair. But and old woman once called him a Beacon. A Beacon of light in these dreary times. He liked it. So it became his nickname for himself.

Then his actual name.

Like a true beacon he attracted those of all kinds to his shop. From children to old men and women. From self proclaimed witches to faithful nuns. Those who hated him, well....that's a story for another day.

Beacon was happy, and for once, that red-headed man that plagued his night were no more. He moved on.

___________________

Exactly 97 years after Crowley and Aziraphale split, Beelzebub decides to pester Crowley once more.

"What do you want this time, another warning?"

The Lord shook their head frantically. In short, Crowley never seen them so panicked in his long ass existence. Honestly, he cause him to panic a bit, ( on the inside, of course )

Beelzebub pulled an old rotten paper out of their pocket, wiping their brow frantically. "I am herezzz for the falen angel of yourzzz!" They said.

Crowley laughed,

"You really think I have another angel under my roof, who do you think I am, Bee?"

Beelzebub panted in exasperation, looking down at their old watch. They didn't have much time.

"Exactly 64 yearzz ago. The Angel Aziraphale, Principality of Heaven, Guardian of the Eastern Gate, wielder of the sword of hellfire has Fallen. He never made it to hell. I'm just here to finally put him into our filezzz."

Crowley's whole world stopped. His corporation's heart stopped beating as he took in the news.

Then he bolted out his door, making sure it shut and locked as he opened his car door.

"_Damn_ it all!" He shouted.

_How could he?_

He started his car...

_How could he do this to <strike>Aziraphale</strike>?_

He forgot to bring his shades with him....

_He was fucking warned!_

Slamming his foot down he sped down the street, leaving Beelzebub in the dust. They just shook there head and sunk back down into hell. They didn't have time for this drama anyways.

________________________

When Crowley pulled up to his angel's bookshop, he stopped dead. It wasn't even a bookshop anymore. Rather a place called Small Rarities with a sign currently flipped to open. Though it was still early in the morning, no one was really in shopping at the moment.

Crowley hopped out of his car, slamming the door shut and muttering curses under his breathe. He was going to go in there and ask whatever cursed human about where the hell the bookshop went and go from there.

He opened the door,

A small bell rang above the door and the man behind the counter smiled softly as him.

"Welcome to Small Rarities! Can I help-" he turned around,

A beat of silence.

"-you?"

Crowley stood there. Mouth agape as he took in the small demon in front of him. Growing ram horns and all. Slitted pupils, dark outfit.

He was angry.

"Listen demon, I don't know who the fuck you are or what you did to the angel but-"

"-it's you." The other whispered. Crowley turned red, jumping over the counter to pin the other to the wall.  
"Where is he?"

"Where is who?" The white-haired demon asked, finally snapping out of his shock enough to reply. Crowley tightened his hold.

"Aziraphale!" He choked out, the name raw on his tongue after not saying it for years. "Aziraphale! The fucking angel that lived here before you! Short! Blonde! He Fell a long time ago!" He started sobbing, "Where is he?" He screamed.

The Beacon sighed, this man was looking for someone he no longer was. This man was the man he was looking for. Aw, he was already smitten with him!

But first things first.

"You mean the angel that Fell exactly 64 years ago?"

"Who else would I be talking about?" Crowley growled out.

"That's me. Well, that _was_ me..."

_______________________

Several things happened at once.

First, Crowley sank down unto his knees. Covering his eyes and crying for the first time in many years.

He recognized the scent of Aziraphale, in his rage, he looked that over. But not anymore....not anymore....

The Beacon knelt down by him, staring into his eyes with his own. "You must have been the one I kept seeing." Crowley looked at him questionably. "Everytime I would sleep, I would see your face. I don't remember your name. But I remember everything else..." he hesitated, "My dear, it's best if you sit down."

He led the red-head over to behind the counter, which had a small cushioned chair. Crowley sank down into it.

The bell rang over the door once more. The younger demon smiled and the rapid footsteps that re recognized to be one of his little loyal customers.

"Bea! Bea!" A small, blonde headed little boy ran around the counter and latched unto Beacon's left leg. He looked up at the man.

"Sister Emilia said she had n' order put in dis' morning an' I am here to pick it up!" He latched harder onto the man's leg. Beacon smiled.  
"Oh she did! And you know what? Since you are such a great helper...why... I guess I'll have to give you something good don't I?" The little boy unclutched the man's pants as he let him go into the back room. The boy's brown eyes fell upon Crowley behind the counter, he waved at the man. Crowley didn't wave back.

"Here you go Ezekiel, two boxes of my finest and for you-" he kneeled down to be eye-level with the boy, "My secret one I have been working on for a while-" Ezekiel went to grab the sweet treat but the man pulled back, "-Ah! This stays between us, okay?"

"Yes sir! Beacon! Sir!" The boy popped the treat into his mouth, carefully grabbing the two boxes before heading out. The sign on the door magically flipping to close. He turned to Crowley.

"We need to talk."

____________________

"So, Beacon, eh? Where did that come from?" Crowley said while drinking a fine white wine, laying across a soft loveseat in the flat above the store. Beacon paced the floor boards as he organized his living space here and there.

"A kind lady called me a Beacon of light around here, it stood." He replied curtly. He didn't like people making fun of his name. The older demon winced at the tone in his voice.

They sat in silence, before Beacon sat down on the floor cross-legged by the couch. Staring into Crowley's eyes. The serpent shivered.

"I don't remember much-" he started, "-but I remember loneliness and sadness-" he breathed in slowly, "You left me."

Crowley sat up, with a burst of anger,

"**No!** Let me speak! Of sssix thousand years you never loved me! All you did was worry about Heaven and Hell and what not! I loved you!-" he stood up, glaring down at Beacon like he was a stain on the floor "-you don't get to say you never loved me, because you _never_ did!"

Everything he thought for all those years, the argument he rehearsed when he saw Aziraphale again, it was all coming together.

"You, an angel to good for a demon. You _never_ cared!"

All he got in response was a punch that sent him flying backward on to the couch. Furious grey eyed glaring down at him.

"You yell at me after walking out! After not even giving me....no, am not him anynore-" he started over, "He loved you. So, so much. But honestly, did you ever think to see things through his perspective because he just wanted to protect you!"

Beacon gasped for breath, "He-H-I loved you! I was afraid, okay? I didn't want you to get hurt. Dammit! I was never good for you anyways!" He sank back down to his knees as if in prayer, looking up into Crowley's eyes. "Of all the demons...all the humans you could have chosen you chose a low angel like me?" He chuckled lowly,

"_Hell_, Crowley, I loved you more than myself. _That_, is what scared me."

The older demon shook his head in denial, tears streaming down his face as the other stood up,

"Then why didn't you want to live with me?"

Beacon shook his head, walking over to an odd box and unlocking it, pulling out a small, silk pouch.

"I don't remember exactly why, but-" he took Crowley's hand in his own, "It was never your fault. It was mine." He placed his old golden ring into Crowley's palm. It was his angel ring, it was too big for his thin finger now but maybe....maybe this would make the man see?

"You never went to fast. I just wasn't ready-" he scratched the back of his neck, a nervous tick of his, "I was afraid of love Crowley. I'm sorry."

Crowley looked down at his palm, immediately recognizing the ring. The clutched it and looked up the The Beacon. "Why are you giving me this?"

The young demon felt tears run down his face, "I know that-that you probably don't love me anymore so-so you-ah- might want something that could remind you of-" _a sob_ "-Of who you used to love"

That is what broke Crowley's heart. The sound of his angel-no not an angel- his little demon crying like that was heartwrenching. He clutched the ring tighter, sadly realizing that it wouldn't fit those too thin fingers anymore. He stood up, finally bring the other into a hug. Slowly rocking them back and forth.

"You may not be an angel-" he said, "But you will always be _mine_. I will always _love you_. I'm sorry for what I did to you." He felt his tears run down his face once more. "I-I will not let you go. Not anymore. You hear me? You and me, we are going to be together from now on. I promise it." He pulled back, looking into the other's eyes, they were beautiful.

"Okay?"

The smaller demon looked up, smiling at Crowley before he wrapped his arms around his neck and brought him in for a kiss.

______________________

Later, as they cuddle each other on the love seat, Crowley runs his hand through his demon's soft, silky hair. Carefully rubbing the base of his growing horns, which caused Beacon to let out a soft moan and the action. Crowley smiled.

"We have each other now."

"Mhmn~"

"Will you ever tell be what happened to you?" He asked quietly. The Beacon sighed,

"One day, my love." _Another sigh_, "One day."

Crowley shrugged but smiled anyway, rubbing at the base of his horn once more. "That's okay-" he whispered,

"We have the rest of time for you to tell me"

_-And finally, Beacon, shop owner, once Aziraphale, guardian of the Eastern Gate, now a Beacon of Hope. Gave his first, real smile for the first time since he became a demon._

_He wouldn't trade this for the world._

* * *

  
The End

<strike> _( For Now~ )_ </strike>

**Author's Note:**

> I'm thinking of doing some oneshots after this, what do you guys think? If you have suggestions I will gladly take them into consideration and possibly add it to this little oneshot series!
> 
> Also, if Small rarities is actually a shop somewhere I did't mean it! It just popped into my head at the time!
> 
> ~♡


End file.
